


i want to speak to the manager

by butwhole (anderson_died), molehills



Series: crumbs [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M, Steve Is Appalled That Children Are Fed These Things, Tony Is Just Trying To Educate A National Hero Pinkie Swear, brownies happen and dog treats are purchased, costco, silly hero boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-19 21:02:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4760891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anderson_died/pseuds/butwhole, https://archiveofourown.org/users/molehills/pseuds/molehills
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a silly Steve Rogers character study I did so long ago. He and Tony go to CostCo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i want to speak to the manager

**Author's Note:**

> *sorry for any ignorance on my part about the New England states etc

Maybe it was mean, but Tony couldn’t feel anything but glee as he watched Steve flounder. It wasn’t a malicious kind of glee, or the mocking sort, but the feeling that you get when you know something someone else doesn’t and you cannot wait for them to figure it out.

That’s sort of how Tony feels around Steve all the time, now that they’re “making an effort” or whatever and have stopped screaming at each other over petty shit. Without his anger making him oblivious, Tony started noticing some truly remarkable things. Like, one of the men who lives with him knows nothing about the twenty-first century. Like, one of the men who lives with him does not own a cell phone. Like, Steve has never seen reality television. It is his duty as an American, he decides, to teach the good Captain the ways of this new and scary world. Also, it seemed really, really fun.

But by the look on his face right now, it’s clear Steve finds their next lesson anything but. He is holding a box of brownie mix two times the size of his head and has it flipped over to read the nutrition facts. (Steve loves nutrition facts, usually. “They tell you things I didn’t even know I was supposed to be concerned about!”) The little crinkle between his eyebrows has appeared and his mouth has fallen open slightly.

Tony keeps the smile out of his voice when he asks, “How bad is it, Cap?”

Steve’s head comes up and he meets Tony’s eyes in horror.

“So much trans fat,” he whispers.

Tony likes to think of the Director’s face during moments like these. The look of completely appropriate fury he knows he would see makes the perfection that is a culture shell-shocked Captain America that much sweeter.

“Why are you smiling, Tony? There’s a child on this package. Children are eating this.”

“I’m sure they’re enjoying it, wherever they are,” he replies, pushing Steve in the center of the back to move him along. “What does it say on the front? A “delightful chocolate experience?” What kid doesn’t like baked chocolate in huge, ridiculous quantities?”

Steve just scowls and Tony takes the box and puts it on a shelf full of dog treats, far away from its brethren in the cake aisle.

“Somebody’s going to have to put that back later,” Steve chides. He puts the brownie mix in their cart.  
  
“We’ll put it back before we leave,” Steve states firmly.

“Alright, Captain Anal.”

Tony thinks he must be imagining the little blush that appears on Steve’s cheeks.

He fixes his attention on the dog treats.

“Do you think I could trick Thor into eating those?”

Steve looks doubtful. “Dog biscuits?”

“Yeah,” he says, and hefts a crate of the generic brand off the shelf. “We’ll just tell him they’re ‘meat biscuits’ or something, which is not a lie, because I’m pretty sure he’s the kind of guy who would go for that kind of thing, y’know, the whole ‘mead and women and meat’ kind.”

“We?” he asks loftily, raising a blonde eyebrow.

“Sure, you’re our leader, I need you on this. It’s very important.” Tony drops the five pound crate into their cart with a resounding clang.

“Jesus, I haven’t been grocery shopping since college.”

“I haven’t been grocery shopping since 1939.”

Tony laughs and then he can’t stop smiling because Steve Rogers is a sassy son of a bitch and he’s here at a Costco in New Jersey with him, even though he hates New Jersey (like any self-respecting New Yorker should) and he’s beginning to hate Costco.

“Why did we come here again?” Steve asks, plaintively. He’s watching a large child jab her mother in the shins with plump fingers as she points to the doll section.

“Because stores like this are a cornerstone of modern gluttony, and you need to know the culture. I’m being thorough.” Tony thinks for a moment and then says, “Plus, this place sells Pop-Tarts by the ton.”

Steve gets a manic gleam in his eye. “We won’t have to buy Pop-Tarts for months.”

Tony snorts. “Try five days. Have you met Thor? Blonde, alien, eats through breakfast pastries like they’re a renewable resource?”

Steve laughs and Tony ignores the little sun that erupts in his gut. He smiles at the polished linoleum and tries to beat back his ridiculous crush. Steve is Captain America. Steve is the symbol of patriotism. Steve is off limits. Even if he does have a very cute dimple and he kisses babies. Especially then.

This is when Tony notices the actual weight of the cart. They’ve stuffed it full to bursting, replete with folding chairs, toothpaste, sundry kitchen appliances, actual groceries (if muffins and pancake mix count as groceries), dog treats, and other things the Avengers totally need, shut up Bruce. The cart is positively laden, and although Tony is so very burly and tough and could push carts four times heavier if he really wanted to, he also knows when he’s wearing expensive shirts that don’t deserve sweat stains.

“I think I’ll let you push the cart, Muscles,” he allows, graciously stepping out of the way.

Steve rolls his eyes but takes the cart and leads them out of the pet aisle.

“Glad to know the serum came in handy for something.”

Seriously. Such a sass.

The large girl, plus one doll, runs in front of them. Steve stops before the cart slams into her, but her mother glares venomously.

“Are you serious?” she asks, voice dripping with righteous indignation. “You almost hit my kid.”

Steve looks taken aback. Tony almost laughs again, because he forgot about this lesson. Captain Rogers, meet bored suburban mom.

“Well?” she demands.

“Uh, I’m sorry. Ma’am,” he stutters and she gives him a look of supreme distaste before stomping off after her spawn.  
Steve stares after her, both of his eyebrows raised high.

“Is it just me, or did she really want to fight me?” he says finally.

Tony grips his shoulder. “She really wanted to fight you. That’s lesson number four, by the way: ‘manager’ moms are stir-crazy and to be avoided at costs. Even if they whisper filthy things in your ear at company galas. Stay away.”

Steve looks over at him, amused.

“That’s two lessons in one day. Think we can call it?”

Tony lifts his hand to his chest, mock hurt. “You want to leave? Leave CostCo?”

Steve schools his features into his Captain America face and says, “Yes. I do.”

“Alright.” Tony heaves a long-suffering sigh.

Once they’ve paid (Steve can’t quite believe how much everything costs- “Are you sure dog treats are really worth that much, Tony, really?”), Tony makes Steve load up the Aston Martin and they go home.

**Author's Note:**

> I am still a baby writer. Feed me. Hold me.


End file.
